


now i've got you in my space, i won't let go of you

by emilybrontay



Category: Gilmore Girls
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, F/M, Fake Baby AU, alternate universe - fake baby, fake baby project au, is that a tag???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-17
Updated: 2015-02-17
Packaged: 2018-03-13 12:17:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3381197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emilybrontay/pseuds/emilybrontay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Hey, Rosemary, you’ll wake the baby," hissed a voice from behind her.</p>
<p>"Rosemary?"</p>
<p>"It’s three in the morning," Jess (who was, slightly disappointingly, not in his pajamas. Rory had always wondered what he wore to bed.) sat down beside her, "excuse me if my references aren’t very sharp."</p>
<p>Title is from a disclosure song</p>
            </blockquote>





	now i've got you in my space, i won't let go of you

"A fake what project?” Jess raised his eyebrows, and Rory climbed onto the stool as he made his way to the other side of the counter.

"A fake baby project - coffee, please-“

“Jesus, woman, I’ve only just walked through the door.”

But she knew he didn’t mean it, because he poured it anyway, a smile hidden in the corner of his mouth. “So a fake baby, huh?”

"Yeah, I think it’s going to be a doll or something - thank you - it’s kind of ridiculous, like, I’m going to Harvard, I’m not one of those girls who thinks that having a baby at eighteen would be the coolest thing ever or something. I mean, I am the product of-“

"Yeah, you’re not the only one," Jess muttered, and she looked at him, blue eyes burning, in the saddest, strangest way. 

"Well," she cleared her throat, "you don’t have to help, or anything, I just thought you should know that it’s happening."

He thought for a moment. “Would Dean have helped you?”

She narrowed her eyes, and he regretted his question. 

"Probably. But I’m not dating Dean, I’m dating you."

"Point taken," he became vaguely aware of the growing number of customers waiting for him to take their order, but he figured they could wait a few more minutes, "Thanks for, y’know, telling me or whatever."

She smiled a funny half smile that he had only ever seen directed at him, and climbed off the stool. 

"I have to meet my mom, but I’ll call you later. Kiss?"

He obliged.

*

"This looks nothing like a human baby," Paris said when presented with her doll, "How’d you expect us to take this seriously if they look like half melted Oompa Loompas?"

"They probably don’t want us to get too attached," Rory replied absentmindedly, "That would defeat the point, wouldn’t it?"

"The whole situation defeats the point," Paris snapped, "If they didn’t want us to procreate, they’d give us real sex education, or free-"

"Alright, Miss Geller, that’s enough," the Health teacher interrupted, "Now remember, your baby will respond to how you treat it, and how you treat it will be logged on my computer, so there is to be no shaking, no dropping, no kicking - if there are any incidents like the aforementioned, you will instantly fail this quarter. Understand?”

The class understood.

"And, just like in real life, there is no mute or off button on these dolls. Good luck, and try and be the best parents you can be."

Paris began to rant under her breath, and Rory poked her doll in the stomach. It really did resemble an Oompa Loompa that had been subjected to an acid wash. She thought she might call it Joe, as in Strummer. Jess would like that. 

*

"That is one ugly baby."

"Thanks, Mom."

"I’m just saying - if they wanted to make it realistic they should have given you the prettiest doll, because - and I’m being completely objective here - you were the prettiest baby in the world.”

Her mother took a sip of her coffee, and Rory squinted at the doll. It still didn’t look particularly aesthetically pleasing. 

"Paris’ was uglier," she informed Lorelai, "And aren’t I the prettiest now?"

"You’re alright," said a voice behind her. She turned in her chair, grinning.

"Jess!"

He set down the fries he had brought them, and nodded in the direction of the doll, which sat propped up on a chair.

"Who doused the Oompa Loompa in acid?"

"That’s my grandchild you’re talking about!" Lorelai exclaimed. Rory rolled her eyes.

"Mom! It’s the fake baby…thing. For Health class."

"Yeah, you told me," he squinted at it. "Enjoy your fries."

And then he turned and walked away.

"What an attentive father," Lorelai remarked, and Rory groaned.

"Mom! It’s a doll! And it’s for school! He doesn’t have anything to do with it.”

"Which is very realistic. You’re getting the full teen mom experience here."

“Mom!”

“Rory!”

The doll started to cry. A groan came from behind the counter.

"Does that thing have a mute button?" Luke grumbled, and Rory shook her head.

"No, sorry - I’ll go, it probably needs changing or something," Rory got to her feet, and picked the doll up, "I’ll see you at home, Mom."

"Do you want me to bring you anything?"

"Pie," Rory sighed, as the doll’s wails grew louder, "I’m going to need a lot of pie."

*

They’d been given bottles, which they were supposed to put in the doll’s puckered O mouths, to mimic the act of feeding them. It reminded Rory of being five, and playing house in the Wendy house in the yard of her kindergarten. Feeling strangely childish, she laid the doll down in her old crib, that her mother had made a great show of putting up the day before, and then sank onto her bed. Motherhood, temporary though it was, was exhausting. 

*

At half past two in the morning it began again. The cries were only a recording of a real baby’s, but it was no less annoying. She’d read somewhere once that some babies just cry themselves out, but she didn’t think that school of thought was applicable to plastic dolls. Rubbing sleep from her eyes, she carried it into the kitchen, making shush noises (her mother, she figured, had already done her time at the whole crying baby thing). It did not stop crying when she fed it. She changed it - well, she removed one tea towel and wrapped another round its waist, but there was nothing on the tea towel. Rory figured that getting plastic to poop was going a little too far - and it did not stop crying. She rocked it and sang There is A Light That Never Goes Out, but still it did not stop.

"What do you want?" she asked it (like it could answer), "What the hell do you want from me, Oompa Loompa?"

It did not stop crying. In fact, it grew louder.

"It is nearly three a.m,” she hissed, “I have school tomorrow. My mother is asleep upstairs. Please, for the love of God, stop crying.”

The doll did not obey her instructions, and Rory forced herself to envision getting an A in Health, going to Harvard. That’s what this was for, going to Harvard. 

“Fine,” she gritted her teeth, “fine, have it your way.”

She balanced the doll on her hip, and grabbed her jacket. 

*

It was deathly silent on the bridge. Not even the crickets were awake. The doll’s wails had quietened the further they got from the house, and as Rory sat down, dangling her feet above the water, it seemed to fall asleep. Clearly, walking sent it to sleep. She made a mental note of that. Maybe that was something all the dolls had in common?The image of Paris, face full of acne cream and hair a mess, stalking the streets of Hartford trying to get her doll to sleep floated to the front of Rory’s mind, and she giggled. 

"Hey, Rosemary, you’ll wake the baby," hissed a voice from behind her.

"Rosemary?"

"It’s three in the morning," Jess (who was, slightly disappointingly, not in his pajamas. Rory had always wondered what he wore to bed.) sat down beside her, "excuse me if my references aren’t very sharp."

"No, actually, I think it’s very fitting," she said, nodding at the doll, "because it is actually the spawn of Satan."

"Rough night?"

"It cried constantly for an hour."

"Babies are known to do that - sometimes longer, too."

“God! I’m not cut out for this. I’m an Honour student, I’m not -“

"That’s the point," he said quietly, "They want you to keep being an Honour student."

"This is an excellent contraceptive," she murmured, staring at the baby (even in the moonlight, it was ugly), "I mean, I don’t even want to kiss you right now.”

Her remark made him feel simultaneously very smug, and terrified (Rory Gilmore had thought about that, and him), but he decided to let it go - now was neither the time nor the place.

"Well you know, just sitting next to a boy could get you in trouble,” Jess said seriously. She groaned, and rested her head on his shoulder.

"Shut up." A pause. "Hey - what are you doing out here? It’s three a.m!"

"Really? I hadn’t noticed."

"Jess."

"Couldn’t sleep."

"Do you sleep in your leather jacket?"

"Yeah, I got a rep to protect."

"Well, Danny Zuko…" Rory yawned, "if it doesn’t damage your rep too much, could you hold the baby for a minute so I can stand up and go home, to my nice warm bed, and get, like, two hours sleep?”

"Baby, huh?"

"What?"

"That’s the first time I’ve heard you refer to it as a baby, not…it, or spawn of Satan or whatever.”

"Oh." Rory suddenly felt very awake. "Well - I’m tired. Can you just take the doll, please? If I leave it on the floor, I’ll lose points, or something, and I’ve got to pass this class."

He took the doll. He didn’t cradle it, or look at it tenderly, but he smiled at her in a way that broke her heart, and made her think of that horrible word; forever.

"Does it have a name?"

She stood, and took the doll back.

"Yeah, I was going to call it Joe, as in Strummer, but I don’t think they really have names. They don’t want us getting too attached."

"Yeah, because you’re really going to become attached to that face."

"Don’t you like it? The name, I mean."

"Well it wasn’t his real name," he draped an arm over her shoulders as they began to walk.

"I know that."

"But it’s alright." 

She nodded into his shoulder, arms still wrapped tightly round the doll.

"Yeah, it’s alright."

"You’re going to ace this," he said, very quietly, in a way that made her think she wasn’t supposed to hear, "You’ll be fine."

"But I’m not cut out for this," she replied in a small voice.

"You’ll be fine, Gilmore," he repeated, "C’mon - I’ll walk you home."


End file.
